Sanctity of Life

Sanctity of life is the one cardinal tenant we have all grown up with and accept unquestionably. Unless of course another country is copying your particularly nasty bomb, when it is then okay to kill. Or someone you are not in an allegiance with decides to shoot his own people, when it is okay to kill. Or when for God, King and Country, (not too sure of the prioritising here) it is okay to send off to slaughter a third of your adult male population. Apart for those global government decisions then, well no. We stand by as some 3,600 are killed annually in traffic accidents, untold numbers expose themselves to early deaths by drink, drugs, smoking and food abuses. All that though is trivial against the millions of babies that die each year around the globe for want of some simple cheap necessity, whether, clean water, basic food, treatment against malaria or diarrhoea. So no, there is no such thing as the sanctity of life.

Thank goodness Terry Pratchett is using his status to try and lift the veil on all the pious bunkum that surrounds the last great taboo, death. It is okay now to talk openly and freely about sex. Time we applied the same common sense to death. It comes to us all, it is the manner, the means and the propriety of the event we should get all het up about. A life squandered, taken by some stupidity, some reckless lack of forethought, these are all to be railed at and most vigorously. Equally whether self-induced by poor life choices or by the hands of some mindless could not care other.

Death is consequential to life. It is the when of death we need to focus our attention on. Maximising for everyone born, their opportunity to live an enriching and fulfilling life is the overarching priority. After that the when of death. When is it right and proper and when should we utilise all possible skills and techniques to defray. Not to get side-tracked into issues of means or timing. These follow on from that prior decision, when is death acceptable. We kill routinely so let us not be too squeamish about talking of decent and humane methods of bringing a life to an end. When it is decided, it is due time.

So how do we square a surgical procedure that will cost in excess of say £50,000 to give a chance of life to a deficient baby that has no meaningful prospect of a 'normal' life when millions of otherwise perfectly healthy babies die for want of 50p spent? I have difficulty squaring 100,000 babies saved against one damaged baby being given a compromised chance. Stark, deliberately so, as there are mountains of ethical issues out there of how we prioritise and choose to save here or let die there. What it comes down to is, there is no such thing of a sanctity of life. We every day, we all make choices, about who will live and who, without our support, will die. What better then than to face up to an easy choice. Let those whose life has reached an end, arrange for a dignified death at their time and place. If that is their own free choice. And that is the only moral dilemma. Is it their free choice?

Philosophy of Death

You do eventually reach a point in your life when death is no longer that distant abstraction but a reality coming up over the horizon. It make you think and you take time to reflect on this and that aspect of life, it meaning, purpose and for this particular blog the manner of death. I have written an advance directive as to the how and what of my care in the event that I am incapable of agreeing to any planned treatments. What we as a Society are struggling to come to terms with is our technical skills are keeping people alive for much longer. One consequence is that more and more people are experiencing a lingering, distressing, humiliating and undignified existence before death finally relieves them. A gradual loss of physical control is one end and the other end is a loss of almost all conscious control. Even the gradual creeping infirmity of old age is so badly handled in this society of ours, robbing them of any self-respect and side-lining them into oblivion. An inconsequential shell that has to be serviced to a minima 'quality of life' until it expires. Not a very flattering view of the end game ahead.

Until the twentieth century the older generation were held in respect. They had carved out a way of life that enabled their genes to pass on, and provided sufficient shelter and sustenance for those gene in tum, to make their own way. All the while they were the depository of the collective and received wisdom and experience of their own life but also the life of the genes that bore them. They were a point of stability and a continuum that could provide assurance and direction in all of life's hurlyburly. Nowadays the role is reversed. Having provided the initial resources to enable the genes to be passed on, their continuing life is now a draining and diverting of resources away that would be better placed with the successor genes. Their cumulative wisdom and experience can longer keep up with rate of change and progress of the society around them, so as to be irrelevant. Any residual possible common ground of a deeper insight into the ways of man gets tossed aside along with all the other 'so called' outmoded insights.

So the older generation is left to reverie to its own age group about the past and how it was and have nothing to offer about what might be that anyone considers worth giving any attention. It is only a matter of perspective and creating time to assimilate, but as it happens those are the two missing ingredient in today's headlong rush. Robbed of the historic role in society, what is the point of living on? It terms of contribution into the family and society, nothing in reality. An offer of a historical viewpoint when the preoccupation is grasping and managing the change all around? The old really do not have a role to play. Sure, if they are lucky they are familiar worn fixtures, a cosy habit to accommodated, enjoyed for old times sake, providing they don't get to be too demanding. Not really significant.

What I see ahead is a gradual decline in my faculties and nothing ahead to make the increasing struggle worth the contemplation. One horror scenario for me would be to live to be one hundred. Why, what for? The only reason is the absence of options. Yet this is the fate ahead for increasing numbers of the present baby-boomers, like me. So the question I am circling around is, if we cannot choose the manner and timing of our death, why accept remedial medical interventions? The interventions offered are the 'easy cures' to reduce the risk of mortality. Take way death by causes that can be easily cured and you are left with death, because that is inescapable, by some incurable, hard to treat cause. A cause more likely to rob you of that dignity we all want in the final stages of our life. Until such times as assisted suicide becomes the norm and accepted, for me, the answer is to refuse all interventions and let life roll whatever dice is my lot. I am not looking for it, not seeking it, more than content to continue as things are but I don't want mankind trying to play God and intercept death dice rolls, even if it is nice and easily preventable with minimal consequences. I'll take my chances. Any one got spare tickets for Switzerland?